It’s Sunday morning and I am sitting on a bus, just leaving Osaka Airport. It’s sunny, but windy. Along the coast there are windsurfers and a baseball match. Sitting here, looking out, this could just as well be the US – highways and highrises.
Lene drove me to the airport, we left home at 11am, and after goodbyes, I flew to Helsinki and from there on to Osaka. Both flights were pretty uneventful and I managed to get a couple of hours kip. Airplane food is just getting worse and worse. We landed spot on time, leaving me one and a quarter hours to find the bus to Tokushima.
I saw this sign at Helsinki airport. I hope it isn’t going to be the hash tag of my next 7 weeks.
Immigration is pretty effective, unlike our American friends – took less than 10 mins, photo and fingerprints are taken before standing in line for passport checks. A few minutes later with bag in hand, l queue up in the nothing to declare line. But obviously I look suspicious, and the official wanted me to empty my bag. He looked at me suspicously, when I tell him taht I am alone and will be here for 50 days!
After a few minutes delay, I’m finally dismissed, and run off to find the bus stop for Tokushima. Luckily I can pay with Visa. With 10 mins to spare I go looking for an ATM, but there is a long line, with a Swedish lady trying to ask a Japanese man in the queue what she should press to get money – in Swedish! I help her, but when it comes to whether she has a savings account or credit account, I give up, and so does she.
I’m the last person left on the bus when we reach Tokushima. We passed over two fantastic bridges as we crossed the strait between the main island and Shikoku, and head for Tokushima. Suddenly it becomes patently obvious that Shikoku is very, very hilly.
What have I let myself in for?